


(Please) Catch Me If You Can

by thunderingskies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Police Officer Terushima, Street Racer Bokuto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9426842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderingskies/pseuds/thunderingskies
Summary: Terushima's just trying to do his job, but Bokuto is determined.Sometimes, when it comes to love, you have to be willing to work for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Dragona enables my rarepairs and drew [this](http://muffinhoe-thedragon.tumblr.com/post/156004067847/%CA%96-more-cop-au-with-rarepairs) which made me want to write this AU even more!
> 
> Enjoy!

Bokuto Koutarou is a lot of things.

He’s strong, and courageous. He’s confident at the best of times, but willing to admit when he makes a mistake; he’s considerate, and emotional, and will lay around in bed until noon if you let him.

But more than that, the one thing that people would say defines him, is his determination.

When Bokuto sets his sights on something, he’s not likely to give it up.

Typically, he prides himself on this.

Today, though? That determination has gotten him four speeding tickets and a growing headache.

He sits in the driver's seat of his car, flipping through radio stations as he drives. He’s still getting used to this radio; the car he’s in is new, he only got his hands on it a few days ago. It’s beautiful, though - a Cadillac Eldorado, brand new - Bokuto is sure he’s going to rack up the miles on this thing pretty quickly. He fiddles with the volume, glancing over at his passenger seat, which is piled with speeding tickets.

He groans, tapping his fingers on his steering wheel. He’s been out the majority of the day trying to get pulled over by that hot police officer he met last week, who pulled him over for just  _ barely _ speeding - he was hardly going 10 miles over the speed limit - and gave him a ticket. There was just… something about him that intrigued Bokuto. I mean, it helps that he’s hot as all hell, but it’s not just that. There’s more to him than meets the eye - he’s smitten, and is determined to get to know him better.

Even though the officer clearly thinks he’s kidding.

Glancing down at his speedometer, Bokuto presses a little harder on the gas as he turns the corner. His mind is moving a mile a minute, like always; he thinks about where the next radar check might be, heading out a little ways out of town to where the cops liked to try and catch people as they come off the highway. He knows all the little speed traps; that’s what comes with racing cars. It’s no fun if he gets caught.

Well, unless it’s on purpose.

He turns the music up, successfully quelling his thoughts with the music and the speed. That’s what he likes the most about driving like this; when he’s moving, when it’s just him, the car and the road, he isn’t overwhelmed with thoughts. He can relax.

The song changes, and Bokuto turns the corner; his gaze travels over the horizon, stopping when he sees blue and red lights flashing in his rearview mirror.

A smile crosses his face as he turns on his blinker, turning off the road and putting his car into park. His skin tingles with excitement, fumbling for his registration from the glove compartment, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

He glances to his side mirror, smile getting bigger when he sees the police officer he’s been hoping to see.

He’s an enigma, for sure - he doesn’t look much like a cop, with his blonde undercut, and black piercings on each ear. He’s tall though, and fit - probably not more so than Bokuto, but he’s clearly athletic. He glances through the window, knocking on in it and giving Bokuto an incredulous look with his piercing, almond eyes. Bokuto grins.

He rolls down the window, and Hot Cop sighs as he pulls out a notebook from his jacket pocket, flipping it open. “License and registration, please.”

Bokuto laughs, passing over his registration, and opening up his wallet to get out his license. “It’s good to see you again,  _ Officer. _ What’s your name?”

Hot Cop lifts a brow, taking the registration and looking it over. “I need your license too.”

Pouting, Bokuto pulls out his license and passes it over. “Isn’t it like, some kind of law where you need to tell me your name?” He perks up, hopefully; if he had a tail, it’d be wagging. So Hot Cop throws him a bone.

“Terushima,” he states clearly, before passing back his license. “Do you know how fast you were going?”

“Fifteen over!” Bokuto wouldn’t go too fast - he doesn’t want to get  _ too _ big of a ticket, or possibly get some demerit points on his license. That’s his ticket to everything that he loves. He’s beaming now that he has the officer’s name. “So Officer Terushima,” he starts, hiding the nervous  fiddling of his fingers under the steering wheel, “Do you wanna go for a  _ ride? _ ”

Terushima spits out a cough. “Are you serious right now?”

“How old are you,  _ officer?” _ Bokuto gains more courage the more he talks, and just keeps going - he’s not good at this sort of thing, so he just lets whatever comes to mind first out. “Can I have your number?”

“For fucks’ sake, I’m trying to ticket you.” Terushima rips out the ticket, shoving the book back into his jacket pocket. He holds it out to Bokuto, who doesn’t take it right away. 

“Are you into guys, Officer?” he grins, carefully sticking his arm out the window and resting it on the car door, wiggling his eyebrows in what he hopes is a sexy gesture. 

It’s not. Terushima sighs, waving the ticket in the air. “You have ten days to pay this, or the fine doubles.”

“Cool.” Bokuto takes the ticket, dropping it onto his passengers side seat with the rest, “So how about that phone number?”

Shaking his head, Terushima turns to head back to his car. “Don’t forget to pay that ticket, and slow down on the speeding.”

He smiles though, and Bokuto can’t help but grin back.

* * *

Bokuto still speeds.

He gets pulled over two more times over the course of the week, and gets a little bit more of Terushima’s story every time that he does.

He’s a year younger than Bokuto himself, sitting at 27; he’s clearly not been on the job too long, being fresh-faced, but Bokuto has seen a few glimpses at the tattoo sleeve on his left arm. Terushima’s stayed tight-lipped about that, though; it’s clear that he doesn’t trust Bokuto by the way he’s withholding important information.

Well, and, the fact that he literally told Bokuto that “ _ I trust you as far as I can throw you,” _ which Bokuto has decided that he can work with.

It’s three in the morning when Terushima finds himself thinking about Bokuto, again.

He’s been trying to stop doing that, but Bokuto’s pesky. He’s like a catchy song you hear on the radio - it pops on every now and again, working its way into your brain and sticking there for weeks, popping up when you least expect it. Except now, instead of whistling a tune, he’s thinking about Bokuto.

Which he knows is pretty stupid, considering that he knows Bokuto’s into speed racing. He wouldn’t go so far as to call him a  _ criminal _ \- he’s not stealing the cars, just racing them dangerously, which means that his name is generally on the radar of the police, but they’re not going to bring him in unless he does something real stupid. And for a guy with a ton of stupid pick-up lines, Bokuto seems to be pretty smart.

Terushima is  _ sure _ the guy is messing with him, but he keeps on turning up, like a bad penny. 

Being on the night shift gives Terushima a lot of time to think, which he normally likes, but right now he wants nothing more than to bash his head against the steering wheel thanks to his partner, Sawamura Daichi.

Now, they’re good partners, don’t get me wrong. Terushima and Sawamura get along very well. Sawamura is easy to talk to, strong-willed and is a good cop; they pick up the slack where the other leaves off. The only problem is Sawamura’s husband, Sugawara, who works as a radio operator back at base.

They’re not always on the same schedule, but when they are… Well, it means Terushima gets to listen to their flirting over the radio, especially when things get quiet. Since it’s a Monday in the middle of the night, there’s not a whole lot going on.

Sawamura laughs into the radio as they talk about an upcoming date - Terushima looks out the window, turning his car down to a smaller lane. Their patrol is generally quiet, so he doesn’t expect to find much, and finds himself wondering about Bokuto.

Where is he right now?

Is he home, or out racing?

Is he safe?

Terushima sighs, shaking away his thoughts to focus on the task at hand. He stops at a stop sign, putting on his blinker, as a car blows past him definitely going  _ way  _ too fast down the street.

Terushima nudges Sawamura, who’s already reaching for the radar gun; he gets it in just in time, clocking it in.

“FIfteen over,” Sawamura says, and Terushima wonders. “Let’s do it.”

Nodding, Terushima flicks on their sirens, hitting the gas to speed up and catch up with the car. It’s moving fast - it’s clearly a sports car, made for these long, flat roads and intense speeds - but at the sound and light of the sirens, it slows down. The car pulls over on the side of the road, hazard lights blinking on. It’s dark, the street lights dim, but Terushima punches in the license plate car numbers before getting out of the car.

There are no red flags so he steps out, Sawamura watching from the passenger seat and jotting down the information of their stop.

Terushima pulls out his flashlight, grabbing his ticket book, too. He steps up to the window, fist about to knock when he sees a familiar face.

Bokuto is grinning at him, window already rolled down, license and registration at the ready.

“ _ Officer Terushima,”  _ he grins, passing over his papers. “What a wonderful surprise.” He looks so damn sincere that Terushima is inclined to believe him.

“Do you speed every day? It must be expensive, having to pay for all of these tickets.” Terushima takes his registration first, even though he knows all of his information by heart now: His full name, date of birth, address, phone number and driver's license number… Not that he’s admitting that to Bokuto though. “I guess that happens when you live like you do, though. Where did you get this car from?” 

Terushima takes a step back to admire the car. It’s an entirely different model from what Bokuto had been driving the last time he pulled him over - it’s a seamless, gorgeous Chevy Corvette, and Terushima is a little bit more than envious. He shakes his head, stepping back closer while Bokuto shakes his head furiously.

“I don’t steal cars.” He grins proudly, “I win them.”

“Entirely legally, I’m sure.” Terushima chuckles under his breath, while Bokuto assures him that yes, everything is on the up and up. If it wasn’t, he could have his license and cars taken away, which would mean the end to his career, if you could even call it that.

“I won’t stop speeding, you know,” Bokuto sighs, and looks right up at Terushima, “I’ll speed again and again so that you’ll pull me over. And I’m going to keep asking you out for a date.”

Is this guy for real?

Terushima rips out the ticket, throwing it at Bokuto. “I’m  _ sure _ you have better things to do, you speed junkie.” He spins on his heel, heading back for his car, ignoring Sawamura’s curious looks once he sees his annoyed expression.

As it turns out, Bokuto doesn’t have better things to do.

They end up playing a convoluted game of tag, chasing and passing tickets.

Sawamura is chuckling to himself from the passenger seat, and Terushima is thankful that they don’t have anything important to do because it’s now five in the morning and he’s in need of another coffee before he starts getting really short with this guy.

It’s not even a surprise when he passes by Bokuto in his car,  _ again _ . It’s eye-catching enough as it is, a brilliant shade of blue, and Terushima doesn’t need to clock him to know he’s speeding. He flicks on his sirens, again, and pulls him over.  _ Again _ .

Whipping out of his car, Terushima all but stomps up to the driver’s side door, which is already open for him. “WIll you cut it out already?” Terushima glares, crossing his arms, “I have other things to do!”

Bokuto laughs, and resists the urge to tell him that no, he doesn’t, he’s been listening to his police radio just in case - instead choosing “Will you stop being so cute and shy and just accept my invitation for a date?”

_ Why _ is this guy so persistent?

It’s not the first time that Terushima has been hit on my somebody who’s being ticketed. Usually, it’s to get out of a ticket, and nothing more. He knows not to take it to heart, or think anything of it. But this, this is new - someone obviously getting tickets  _ on purpose. _ How is he supposed to handle this?

“I don’t have time to mess around!” He brings a hand to rub at his temples. He’s done this thing before, he’s put himself out there before and got burned. How does he know that Bokuto isn’t just fucking around with him? He’s sure that this has to be some sort of joke with him and his buddies - get the cop caught unaware and make him look like a fool, right?

“I’m not messing around.” Bokuto looks… offended, at the accusation. He purses his lips, and Terushima can feel that he’s putting effort into staying calm. “I’m serious, Terushima.”

Terushima knows Bokuto’s type. He can keep giving him tickets, or maybe he could lock him up for a few hours, but he knows that won’t end well. One look at him and Terushima knows that Bokuto’s the type to sing loudly to himself in lock-up, or strip for no reason. Terushima knows his type because he used to  _ be _ that person, a long, long time ago.

So, those are his two options. Or - and this is a tough option for him to consider - he could trust his instincts, and give this guy a chance. Maybe it’s the fact that this guy has gotten a dozen tickets just to see him, or the fact that the sun is going to come up soon and Terushima’s tired and irrational, or maybe it’s just because Bokuto’s pretty damn hot.

“I’m probably going to regret this,” Terushima closes his eyes, “but if I agree to one date, will you stop this?” He takes a deep breath, opening up his eyes to see Bokuto staring at him, wide-eyes sparkling. He nods once, grin working its way across his face.

“Deal!”

“I finish work tomorrow at six. Pick me up at the station.” Terushima takes a step back before examining him a little more closely. “And you’d better not speed.”

Bokuto laughs, pinky promising him. “You won’t regret this!”

* * *

Terushima finishes with the last bit of his paperwork just before his shift ends. He lets out a huge sigh of relief once it’s done; he hates paperwork more than anything else. If it were possible to be a cop without all of it, he’d love it, but for now he just has to deal.

He checks his watch, realizing that Bokuto is going to be here soon. 

Well, hopefully he doesn’t mind waiting a little bit - Terushima needs to shower and change, ditching his stuff at his desk to head down to the locker rooms to do just that. He doesn’t make use of the shower at the station too often, preferring to go home for that, but it sure comes in handy in times like these.

He moves quickly, hopping under the warm water and washing himself off with ease. He scrubs out his hair, wondering what exactly they’re going to be  _ doing _ on this date. He didn’t really bother to ask - and he hopes to god that Bokuto has something planned, or else Terushima is going to have to try and come up with something on the fly.

After drying off, Terushima slips on his fresh, clean clothes he’d packed this morning to wear on the date. Since he doesn’t know where they’re going, he picks something simple and sensible. He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans, a plain white button-up shirt and his favourite navy blue jacket. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, securing back on his watch and checking the time. It’s only quarter after six, so he’s making good time; he told Bokuto he got off at six, so he’ll probably show up sometime soon. Terushima steps into his shoes, dropping his things into his pocket, slamming his locker door closed. 

He opens up his phone, as the door to the locker room opens; he hears a low whistle, and a chuckle. “Wow, Yuuji, you got a hot date tonight or what?” He looks up to see Sugawara grinning at him. “You don’t usually get so dressed up after a shift.”

He considers telling him it’s none of his business - he wants to, really - but somehow instead finds himself saying, “Yeah, I am.”

“Oh is it that hot street racer?” Sugawara drops himself down on the bench, a knowing smirk on his face. “The one getting all these tickets just to talk to you? Bokuto?”

“He hasn’t been trying  _ that _ hard-”

“No, only willingly letting himself get pulled over by you, and multiple other officers in the precinct. I gotta give him credit, though, he only speeds on areas that are on your patrol. He doesn’t always get the times right, but you gotta give him props for trying.”

“Suga,” Terushima groans, “Can we, I don’t know, not talk about him?”

“So you want to  _ not _ talk about the hot guy, doing  _ dubiously _ legal stuff, who went out of his way to ask you out, multiple times, until you said  _ yes _ \- and you don’t say yes easily, trust me, I’ve seen all the people you’ve turned away - who you have now  _ dressed up _ for?” Sugawara grins at him with such an expression that he knows he’s won. Terushima can do nothing but sigh, and nod his head.

“Fine, yeah. You’re right.”

“As per usual,” Sugawara turns, flitting back to the door, “And by the way, he’s been waiting outside since before your shift ended. You won’t miss him - not with that kind of ride.”

Of  _ course _ Sugawara says that last just to rile him up - Terushima curses under his breath, jogging out and heading straight for the front door, bursting out as he slows his pace.

Sugawara isn’t lying - right as soon as he steps out, Terushima sees him.

If he thought Bokuto looked good regularly, well, he sure as hell cleans up pretty nicely. He’s obviously wearing his Sunday best, cleaned up real nicely in a pair of black dress pants, and a light blue button-up shirt. It’s clear that he doesn’t wear them very often, the shirt carefully ironed like it’s just come out of the store, but what really sells it is the smile that burns his face when he sees Terushima. Bokuto straightens up, pushing himself up off where he’d been leaning against the side of his car.

“Officer Terushima!” He calls, offering him a small wave. “Glad to see you could make it.” He steps out to meet Terushima, who stops right in front of him.

“Wow,” Terushima whistles, “You really went all out.” He likes the outfit, but also nods towards the car. Bokuto is always driving nice cars, but this one really takes the cake - it’s sleek as sleek can be, a beautifully shiny black Ford Mustang that would even make Terushima want to speed, just a little.

Bokuto grins like a proud father. “Oh, yes. This is my baby.” He turns and runs a hand across the hood of his car, “I’ve had her for a little while now. She’s not going anywhere.”

Terushima laughs, and shakes his head. “Am I underdressed?”

_ Underdressed? _ Bokuto only just about passes out when he sees Terushima in his casual clothes; he can see bits of his tattoo peeking out from below his sleeve on his left arm and it seems to go all the way up his neck and  _ damn it _ , he really wants to know what’s under there. He shakes his head, offering him a thumbs up. “No, you look amazing,  _ Officer _ !”

Hiding a blush, Terushima pushes past him playfully, heading for the passenger’s side door - Bokuto meets him there, opening the door for him with a tiny swing of the hand. Terushima clumsily slips into the car, settling himself in while Bokuto slides into the front, fitting into the driver’s seat with ease. He turns the key in the ignition and the car starts like it’s just been driven off the production line.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Terushima replies, coating his response in a thick layer of sass to hide the fact that he’s blushing like mad on the inside.

No salt can protect him from being pampered and courted the way that Bokuto does to him, though.

As soon as they’ve pulled up to the restaurant, Bokuto steps out first to open the door for Terushima. He smiles, big and sincere, as Terushima steps out. “Right this way, handsome.”

Bokuto picks one of his favourite barbecue restaurants for their meal, escorting Terushima right in where they have a reservation. Terushima follows along with interest, as they’re seated at a quiet booth in the far end of the restaurant.

The atmosphere is nice - it’s not too loud, but he doesn’t feel out of place with it being too fancy. Bokuto looks like he fits right in, and grins as they’re handed their menus.

“Order whatever you like! It’s on me.” He grins, and points out a few things on the menu, “I usually stick with the ribs but I’m sure everything’s good.”

With a nod, Terushima distracts himself by looking at the menu. Bokuto keeps talking though, and it’s nice; he carries on a conversation with ease, and Terushima finds himself laughing as they’re served up beers to get them started. Terushima takes a nice long sip, sighing as he puts down the bottle.

“Long day?” Bokuto’s watching him, and tilts his head to the side. “I imagine it must be pretty rough, doing what you do day in and day out.”

Terushima looks at him curiously, nodding before taking another sip of his drink. “Yeah, sometimes. But getting to pull over the same guy and flood him with tickets is usually pretty entertaining.”

Bokuto barks out a laugh, expression open and unguarded, “Those tickets were totally worth it.”

From there, the conversation just flows. They talk a little about work, but quickly branch off into interests and hobbies; they both love tattoos, and they both have a thing for cars, and baseball. Even though Bokuto is a Cubs fan and Terushima likes the Cardinals, well - they’ll make it work.

The waiter comes to take their orders, and probably internally scoffs at the sheer amount of food. Terushima doesn’t hold back, trying to egg Bokuto on a little bit by ordering lots, and some of the most expensive items on the menu. If it bothers him, he doesn’t comment on it, just grinning and continuing to badger Terushima about the fact that  _ his _ team didn’t win the world series.

Throughout it all, Bokuto is just so kind and  _ attentive _ , listening to Terushima, asking him questions and generally just being a really good date. It throws him off.

The food comes, and Bokuto just laughs as Terushima cuts pieces off a lobster tail, and bits from his steak. He watches, until Terushima has a good amount already cut up, and looks up to meet his eye.

“What?”

“You’re particular, aren’t you?” Bokuto laughs as he starts cutting up his own meat, too. He watches Terushima take his first few bites, eyes wide and interested. “Is it good?”

Terushima hums, and spears a bite of lobster, offering it to Bokuto. “Want to try?”

Bokuto nods, so he passes him the piece, which Bokuto eats eagerly. He chews thoughtfully, as if he’s trying to decipher every last ingredient in the food. “Hm, I never thought of ordering this before. Kinda salty…”

That makes him laugh, the sound sending sweet shivers down Bokuto’s spine. He passes Bokuto another piece, this time of his steak. “Here, try the steak instead.” Bokuto takes it happily, and it’s gone in a matter of seconds; his smile is that of approval as he bounces happily.

“Oh, that’s good! Can I have some more?” Bokuto flashes him such a smile that he can’t help but give him another piece; this time, Bokuto takes it right off his fork, eating another piece of the lobster, too. Terushima almost feeds him another piece before he realizes that he’s  _ feeding him _ , in  _ public _ and wow he should probably stop that. Bokuto’s just chewing happily, and when Terushima stops feeding him, he goes back to his own food.

“You’re something else, you know that, Bokuto?” Terushima shakes his head, chuckling.

“Call me Koutarou.” Bokuto’s voice drops to such a sweet baritone that Terushima  _ cannot handle. _ He puts his head down to try and focus, skin tingling when Bokuto’s voice fills his ears again. “Hey, you okay, Officer?”

Bokuto has to stop calling him Officer, though; if not for Terushima’s sanity, for his own. He looked hot enough in his uniform, but there’s something about calling him that while he’s off-duty, in his civilian clothes.

“Mhm,” he responds, rubbing his face with a hand, but doesn’t lift up his face right away. Bokuto reaches over, touching his hand with his own. Terushima nearly jolts at the touch, but Bokuto doesn’t do anything else, just rests his palm on top of Terushima’s hand.

“If you’re not feeling well and want to leave, I’ll take you out of here, Officer.” Bokuto’s voice takes on that tone again and Terushima wants to believe it.

“Yuuji. Call me Yuuji, please.” He  _ needs _ him to stop saying officer like that or else he’s gonna need to go lie down.

“Officer Yuuji.” He can  _ hear _ the grin in Bokuto’s words.

“I swear to God I’m going to leave, Koutarou.”

Bokuto blushes, but Terushima can’t see it as he’s still not looking up; Bokuto hides it quickly, countering with a quick, “Why?”

“You know damn well why, you smartass.” Terushima lifts up his head, shooting him a glare. He finishes off his beer for a distraction, leaving the empty bottle next to his plate.

He gets a snicker in response, and Bokuto plays with his glass. “So, since we know each other’s names now… can I ask about the tattoo on your arm?” He sends him a playful smirk, tapping his foot with his own.

The change of topic is a welcome distraction at least, but Terushima has to shake his head no. “No, I don’t think that’s a first date question.”

Bokuto pouts, “It’s not?”

Terushima hums in affirmation. “No. Try asking me on our second date.”

Bokuto’s smirk is to die for, “I’ll definitely hold you to that, Yuuji.”

* * *

As it turns out, Bokuto texts with a ton of emojis. 

Terushima’s amused over the course of the next week while they exchange text messages; Bokuto’s always quick with the good morning messages, and they carry on their conversation throughout the day. There often isn’t an end or a beginning to those conversations - they just sort of flow, picking up throughout the day, dropping when they’re busy, and picking back up again later on.

They learn a lot about each other. Bokuto’s open, and Terushima finds himself wanting to open up in exchange. He finds out that his paranoia was pretty unfounded - Bokuto doesn’t have any plans to pull a joke on him, or make him look bad. He’s not in it for anything like that.

Rather, a friendship builds, but there’s always a little more than just that. Bokuto doesn’t stop with the pick-up lines -  _ Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? _ \- but Terushima gets better at receiving them, alongside the genuine, real compliments. It doesn’t get any easier reading the  _ you’re so handsome, Yuuji _ comments, but, at least over text, Bokuto can’t see his blush.

They talk about their friends, and about their families; they talk about work, a little, but never in detail. Terushima can’t talk about it, and Bokuto gets that; he’s good at steering the conversation where he wants to go. 

With their busy schedules, it’s not always easy to plan times to meet up, but they manage to make it work somehow; and for two guys with such bad boy appearances, they do sure take the courting process nice and slow. 

Before a long shift, Bokuto stops by and and brings Terushima a coffee, to sit at the park across from the station and drink; when Terushima has some time off, he meets Bokuto at a coffee shop for sandwiches and lunch. Terushima drinks his coffee black, and Bokuto likes his sandwiches loaded up with spicy red peppers. They both like wild rice soup, and desserts -  _ lots _ of desserts. It just makes sense to go to their favourite bakery for their second, and then their third date.

“Yuuji!” Bokuto waves an arm as soon as he sees Terushima rounding the corner, heading towards the bakery - aptly named  _ The Pie Chart _ \- with a smile on his face. He waves back, and Bokuto finds himself grinning like an idiot while he waits for Terushima to get closer. 

“Hey, Koutarou,” Yuuji greets him, sliding his hands in his pockets. He looks adorable, in a striped t-shirt and black jeans, and Bokuto has to resist the urge to hug him. They haven’t gotten  _ there _ yet.

“Come on, I’m starving and this food smells amazing.” Bokuto nods towards the building, and they walk in together; they pick a seat near the window, and Bokuto takes off his coat. 

“Starving? Shouldn’t you have dinner first?” Terushima quirks a brow, grin on his face evident. He leans back in his chair as Bokuto laughs, rich and deep, shaking his head.

“No way, I’m entitled to at least one dessert dinner a month.” He sniffs, and turns his attention over to the waiter who comes to take their order and inform them of the specials, which catch their attention. They decide to each order one of the two special desserts and share. Bokuto gets a sandwich, too, since this is also his dinner, although Terushima had his dinner break at work.

Conversation comes easy; Terushima fills Bokuto in about his partner, Daichi, and Bokuto tells Terushima all about his best friend and mechanic Kuroo. Apparently, although Bokuto knows his way around cars, Kuroo is practically a savant with the machines; he has his own shop, and tinkers away there all day. Most of the racers in this area, Bokuto’s closest friends, hang out there - not that Terushima is supposed to know that.

After they eat, Bokuto gets some more to go - because baked goods like that should be enjoyed in  _ high quantity _ , he says - and they head back out on the street. They’ve clearly been taking longer than Terushima had realized - the sun has set, and the sky is darkening; it’s chill, a light breeze blowing through the street, ruffling Terushima’s hair.

“Do you have to be up early?” Bokuto asks, as they step out. He tilts his head to the side as he watches Terushima shake his head.

“No, I’m on nights.” 

“Oh! Great! Then we can go for a little walk together?” With a smile, Bokuto holds out his arm for Terushima to take. 

He’s too much, sometimes.

Terushima nods, and pulls his hands out of his pockets. The cold air makes him shiver as he reaches out for Bokuto’s arm, which gets pulled away quickly.

“Wait!” Bokuto freezes, before reaching out to touch Terushima’s arm. “Are you cold?” He pulls back, shrugging off his black coat, as Terushima shakes his head.

“No, I’m fine, seriously-”

“Stop it, it’s fine. I run hot.” 

_ Yeah,  _ Terushima’s aware of that little fact.

Bokuto slips off the coat, and drapes it over Terushima’s shoulders. Terushima pulls the coat around his body, breathing in the thick scent of Bokuto; it’s a strange mix. It smells like an auto shop, like metal and paint and motor oil, like the cologne that Bokuto always wears - light, something like lemongrass, and then what has to be just…  _ Bokuto. _ It makes him feel warm, and he buttons up the coat gratefully. It’s a little big.

“Thanks,” Terushima nods gratefully, before Bokuto holds out his arm again, and he takes it.

His arm is even warmer than the jacket.

* * *

Bokuto spends a fair amount of time driving and listening to his police scanner.

It becomes a habit, really.

He’s not really expecting to hear anything in particular, but sometimes he listens to it in place of the radio. He remembers some of the codes that he’s read about online, and a few from Terushima, but most of the time it’s just listening to the officers talk to each other. 

Some of the voices he recognizes. There’s Terushima, of course - he sounds different over the radio, but it’s unmistakable. He recognizes Sawamura’s voice too, and then a couple of the radio operators from base that he wouldn’t know to look at them, but he recognizes their voices easily enough.

It’s just past dinner time, and he’s driving around with Kuroo, who just finished installing some new upgrades in his car. Bokuto doesn’t pretend to understand all of Kuroo’s technical mumbo-jumbo, but he’d trust anything that he puts in his car.

“How’s she feel?” Kuroo asks, nodding towards the engine; he runs a hand along the dashboard, nodding appreciatively. “Sounds good. Feels good.”

“Yeah, great!” Bokuto grins, and presses a little harder on the gas, the car accelerating. “She definitely speeds up faster.”

Kuroo snorts with laughter, shaking his head, “I mean everything moves faster than you, so that isn’t saying much.”

Bokuto pouts, “Hey! I move plenty fast, thank you very much!”

“Mhm,” Kuroo leans back into his chair, grinning devilishly, “So then you’re gonna tell me you’re  _ not _ dancing around Teru anymore?”

At  _ that, _ Bokuto blushes. “It’s perfectly okay to take it slow, you know! Just because I didn’t get in his pants on the first day, like  _ you _ and-”

“Okay, okay, fine! I get it.” Kuroo laughs, and nudges him with his elbow as they Bokuto turns the car back towards the garage. “Seriously, though. You’re  _ basically _ dating, why not just make it official already?”

Making a face, Bokuto shrugs. “‘Cause… ‘cause… I don’t know! We just haven’t. It’s gotta be… right, you know?” The car slows as he pulls over by the garage. “I don’t wanna pressure hi-”

Bokuto pauses, a familiar voice ringing in on the police scanner.

Kuroo blinks, irritated, “You don’t wanna what?-”

“Shhhh!” Bokuto throws a hand over Kuroo’s face, “Let me listen.” 

“You and that fuckin’ scanner…” Kuroo mumbles under his breath, huffing and looking out the window. He pulls Bokuto’s hand off his face, ears perking up as the officer on the other end reads a code that he isn’t familiar with. It’s got Bokuto’s rapt attention, though.

The police radio is scratchy, and Kuroo can only make out part of the words.  _ “Officer is being transported ….” _ He strains to listen, but only catches a few words -  _ hospital, injury,  _ and a badge number. 

Bokuto is silent.

“Kou?” Kuroo reaches over to touch his shoulder, “What is it?”

He doesn’t move, and then shakes his head. “I don’t know? I-I don’t remember that code, but that’s Yuuji’s badge number. And- and the hospital?” He shakes his head again, “I- shit, is he hurt? Is he-”

“Hey, hey, Kou, take a deep breath.” Kuroo’s been his friend for years, he’s seen him panic - he tries to intervene as quickly as possible. “We don’t know it’s anything bad, right?”

“If it wasn’t bad, why the  _ hospital? _ ” He runs a hand over his face. “I-I just, I don’t know-”

“How about we go there?” The easiest solution, the one that always works best with him is to confront things, so that’s what he plans to do. “Move over, I’ll drive.”

Bokuto nods, but it’s clear as day that he’s still panicking; they switch seats, and Bokuto buckles himself in as Kuroo revs up the engine. 

He tries not to worry, and panic, and imagine the worst but Bokuto can’t  _ help _ it - that’s what he does, his anxiety creeping up on him like a predator. Terushima’s in the hospital. He’s in the  _ hospital. _

What if he got in a car accident?

Oh, god - what if he got shot?

There’s no way, no fucking  _ way, _ Bokuto has to shake his head and tell himself to  _ stop _ , but it’s not working. He only just got Terushima in his life. They only have been friends for a month, maybe, they barely even  _ know _ each other - Bokuto hasn’t even had the chance to tell him how much he likes him.

He hardly even registers their arrival, and Kuroo parking the car in the visitor’s parking lot. It isn’t until Kuroo is touching his arm and saying his name that he tunes back in.

“Kou? Hey, we’re here.” Kuroo steps out of the car, and Bokuto follows, his body moving on autopilot. He’s still running through situations, scenarios - trying to prepare himself for the worse, while nursing his tiny bit of hope that it’s going to be okay. He’s stuck, too many thoughts racing around in his head that he just can’t calm down.

He just needs to see him.

Kuroo talks to some people, and somehow figures out where Terushima is; Bokuto doesn’t know how, but in the back of his mind he knows he must be pulling some strings and he’s got to be thankful for that later

They walk up a flight of stairs, and down a few hallways; it’s in a quieter area, and as they walk, Bokuto sees a cop stepping out of one of the rooms. 

That’s  _ got _ to be it.

He makes a beeline for the room, bursting in, not even caring that there’s tears in his eyes. He pushes right into the door, eyes scanning the room quickly.

He’s there.

Terushima.  _ Yuuji. _

Sitting up in bed, looking at Bokuto with a confused, concerned expression. He’s still in uniform, but one of his legs is elevated, and wrapped up. “Kou?” He calls, quietly.

_ Thank god. _

Bokuto’s vision blurs, and he all but launches himself at Terushima, throwing his arms over his chest. Terushima’s still talking, but Bokuto doesn’t hear him - all he can do is press his face against Terushima’s chest, listening for his heartbeat.

Only when he hears it, strong and steady, does he feel like he can breathe again.

Terushima doesn’t say anything, but lets him in close. He wraps his arms around Bokuto’s shoulders, hands pressing in his hair, calming him down. He breathes slowly and evenly, shifting over on the bed to give Bokuto a little bit of room to lean down his weight.

It’s safe to say that Terushima is surprised to see Bokuto, but it’s definitely not a bad thing.

They stay like that for a little while. Sawamura, who brought him here, heads out in the hallway with Kuroo to give them a little space while Bokuto calms down; a nurse comes in to check his chart, before she too disappears.

When Bokuto is calm enough to talk, he pulls his face back to get a good look at Terushima. Terushima lifts his hands up, palms pressing against Bokuto’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away his wet tears. He blinks a few times, shaking his head.

At last, he speaks. “You’re okay?” His voice is quiet, trembling; it makes Terushima’s heart swell. He nods in response, squeezing him a little.

“Yeah, I am. It’s nothing big, just a bit of a chase, and I got knocked out. Daichi made me come in… but it’s just a minor concussion and a sprained ankle. I’m fine.” Terushima talks slowly, calmly; the words put Bokuto’s mind at ease, and he nods slowly.

“Really?”

Terushima nods. “Yeah.” He shifts, a little. “How did you…?”

Bokuto blushes, but doesn’t look away. “Police scanner. I heard bits… I didn’t remember the code but I remembered your badge number.”

Terushima can’t help but smile at that. “Koutarou…” He whispers, voice low and heavy, pressing their foreheads together. 

But he’s not done - Bokuto went through enough situations in his had to know that he has to talk,  _ now. _ “Yuuji,” he starts, bringing his hands up and wrapping them around Terushina’s wrists, holding on tight. “Yuuji, I thought… I couldn’t- I wouldn’t…” He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I realized that there’s something I have to tell you.”

Terushima nods, letting his hands fall back down, slowly, to his lap. Bokuto takes them in his and squeezes. 

“Yuuji,” he says, quietly, eyes searching his, “I like you… I like you so much; I want to be able to pick you up after a long shift and cuddle you in bed until you fall asleep… I want to learn how to make your favourite foods and probably fuck it up but I’ll try anyway…” Bokuto laughs, but keeps going, “I want to visit you on your lunch break and eat apple pie for lunch together, and bring you to all my friends and introduce you as my  _ boyfriend… _ ” He pauses, finally breaking eye contact to look down at their joined hands. “So do you… What do you…?” He looks back up, hopeful, but also afraid.

Terushima doesn’t answer at first.

He  _ can’t _ \- he never thought this was going to happen. Never thought that he would have someone want him like this, never mind someone that he can  _ trust.  _ It’s been a long time since he’s been in a relationship, let alone one that he wants to be serious with.

But, for Bokuto - he’s willing to try.

Terushima nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he nods, leaning in closer, “I want that too.”

Bokuto smiles beautifully, and Terushima almost doesn’t want to kiss it away.

_ Almost. _

* * *

_ _

They have a date planned for the next night, but after what happened, they’re more interested in just spending some time alone together.

Terushima cancels their reservations, and Bokuto picks up some take-out instead. Terushima texts him his address - it’s a surprise, but they’ve never actually been to each other’s apartments - and when Bokuto shows up, he’s just changed out of his work clothes and into an old gym shirt and drawstring sweatpants. He answers the door, running a hand through his hair and offering a smile to Bokuto.

“Yuuji!” He grins, holding up a big brown bag and a pack of beer. “Hungry?”

With a smile, he pushes the door open. “Come on in, Kou.”

Bokuto grins wildly as he follows Terushima in to his house, looking all around. It’s small, just a single level, and is decorated minimally, but it’s exactly what Bokuto would have imagined for Terushima’s home. The hallway is lined with pictures; some in uniform with his fellow officers, others with family. With his parents, his younger brother, childhood friends. It’s sweet.

“Okay if we just eat here?” Terushima turns when they step into his living room, and gestures towards his coffee table. It’s a decent size, and right in front of his big couch. Bokuto nods eagerly.

“Yeah!” He puts the bag down and starts to unload the contents; he’s selected a wide variety of chinese food for them to eat. He’s got everything from chicken fried rice to lo mein and sweet and sour ribs. Terushima brings in what they’ll need from the kitchen, and then settle themselves on the floor to start eating.

Usually Terushima turns on the television while he eats, but today, Bokuto fills the silence. He talks and talks - talks about how Kuroo made fun of him for crying over a sprained ankle, talks about an upcoming race, talks about anything and everything.

Terushima listens, and laughs. It’s nice, and easy.

He twirls up a bite of lo mein, chewing thoughtfully as Bokuto watches. Looking from his plate to Bokuto, he nods at the food. “You want a bite?”

Bokuto nods excitedly so he scoops some up on his chopsticks, offering the bite to Bokuto, who takes it nice and slow. He swirls his tongue out and around the chopsticks, licking his lips in approval after the bite.

“Mm, that’s good!” Bokuto grins, picking up some beef with his own chopsticks. “Want to try some of mine?”

Terushima nods, and Bokuto in turn feeds him a piece. It’s good - the flavour is strong, and he can really taste the spices in it. He nods appreciatively, and Bokuto laughs while feeding him another piece.

He expected there to be some sort of weirdness with this being so new, but there’s not.

They just do what feels right.

Bokuto chuckles, and shifts his weight; he pulls Terushima’s foot onto his lap, touching around his ankle; it’s in a brace now, after what happened, but his muscles are loose at the touch.

“How does your ankle feel?” He touches it carefully, still wary. Terushima shrugs.

“It feels fine, actually. It was only a small sprain so I’ll be back to normal pretty soon.”

“That’s good,” Bokuto smiles, before pulling Terushima a little closer. “So then… This is okay?” He moves his hands up Terushima’s legs, wrapping around his waist and sliding him closer, bit by bit, until their legs are touching. Terushima nods, so Bokuto pulls him a little closer, so that Terushima’s legs are on either side of his waist and he’s practically sitting in his lap. “So Yuuji… you told me that I had to ask on a later date to see more of your tattoos…” He lets his fingers trail across the exposed expanse of Terushima’s left arm, where he had a full sleeve of tattoos in dark, deep black ink. He touched across the design before looking up and meeting Terushima’s eye. “How about now?”

Terushima hummed, thinking. “Well, how many times did we go out?”

“I lost track!” Bokuto shrugs, slipping his arms around Terushima’s waist and squeezing. “Like ten? Eleven maybe?”

With a laugh, Terushima frees his own hands to slide them around Bokuto’s shoulders, linking his fingers behind his neck. “Okay. So then how about we play a game?” His voice drops, and he smirks at Bokuto, who shivers at the action.

Fuck, why did he have such a thing for his  _ voice? _

Bokuto nods and shimmies closer. “What kind of game?”

“Well,” Terushima licks his lips, and Bokuto’s eyes follow the movement, “A tat for a tat, how does that sound?” Bokuto’s skin is warm beneath his, and he longs for nothing more than to expose and explore his skin all over. They’ve waited long enough.

No more words are exchanged - they don’t need them anymore. Bokuto slides his hands up the back of Terushima’s shirt, his hands pressing firmly against his skin. 

Everywhere he touches burns red hot; Terushima thought he might be cold before, but not now. Bokuto lifts up his shirt, tugging it with purpose until he is able to pull it up and off his body, exposing his skin to the cold air. He’s not cold for long, though; Bokuto covers his body with his own, pushing him back and down until he’s laying flat on the ground, their skin touching as much as possible.

Bokuto seals their lips together, finally getting that taste he’s been longing after for so long; Terushima tastes like sesame oil and chicken, but there’s something else too - something Bokuto knows he’s going to get addicted to.

Terushima’s tongue swirls into his mouth and he feels the small, cold piece of metal he’s been taunted with for  _ weeks _ ; he feels it out with his tongue, lips moving in a smile as Terushima lets him twirl it, play with it, letting out the tiniest little moans. His hands curl around Bokuto’s shirt, fingertips sliding under the front to brush across his abs. He inhales at feeling them; just as hard and sculpted as he’d pictured.

With a curse under his breath, Terushima starts to pull up Bokuto’s shirt, hurriedly lifting it over his head and tossing away behind him.

Then it’s time to get to work.

He smoothes his fingers across Bokuto’s abdomen, fingertips brushing and feeling the dips and crevices; he looks up at him with such fondness, such intimacy, all Bokuto can do is watch.

Everywhere he touches leaves a pleasurable burn; Bokuto swallows as Terushima feels up his stomach, hands sliding around his waist and across his lower back. He pauses, eyes flicking down as his fingers trace the first tattoo he finds - right down the expanse of Bokuto’s left side, covering his entire ribs.

Terushima leans up enough to press a kiss to his skin, slipping his tongue out and tracing the outline of the design, which is a huge, black-and-white piece of an owl at flight. It’s beautifully drawn, and intricately inked; it looks real, and Terushima takes his time in touching and feeling all the skin there. 

“It’s-ah,” Bokuto bites back a when Terushima’s tongue traces lower, tickling his sides, “It was my first one. I’ve always loved owls.” He brings a hand to run through Terushima’s hair, the short hairs of his undercut tickling his fingers pleasantly. Terushima hums, teeth nibbling before pressing a final kiss, and leaning back down to let Bokuto have his way with him.

Bokuto grins, and takes his time to fully appreciate the intricate design wrapped around Terushima’s entire left arm, from his forearm right up to his shoulder.

It’s a give and take; Bokuto gives, and Terushima takes. Bokuto rains kisses down on his skin, stopping to nip and suck and leave love bites as he pleases. The moans coming from Terushima are like music to his ears, honestly, and he’s desperate to hear more. 

Terushima gives, and Bokuto takes. He switches their positions, hands running up Bokuto’s back. With every move that he makes, his muscles flex. It’s honestly unfair - he’s the world’s biggest turn-on, and he doesn’t even have a clue.

The bedroom seems so far away; out of sight, out of mind.

Clothes are of no use anymore, and they discard them, messily, taking the time to appreciate each other fully. Bokuto slides into Terushima’s lap, latching on to his neck, leaving a series of love bites down his neck, down towards his collarbone. Terushima moans, head tilting back to give Bokuto more access.

Bokuto’s getting impatient, and he rolls his hips, grinding them together, pleased at the soft intake of breath he hears from Terushima. The teasing is getting to him - he’s hard, and allows Bokuto to unbutton his jeans, pulling them down and off his body. Finally free, his cock springs out, hard against his hip. He lets out a hiss as Bokuto touches it, running his fingers along his cock, stopping dead in his tracks when he feels a series of cold, metal piercings.

If his mouth wasn’t watering already,  _ God _ , it sure is now.

“Yuuji?” He mouths against the skin of his neck, trailing kisses back up his neck, to his chin. “How are you so fuckin’ perfect?”

Terushima snorts, but it turns into a groan when Bokuto fists his hand around his cock, “You’re - ah, you’re one to talk, you damn tease.”

Bokuto snickers before pulling him into a deep kiss; Terushima sees stars, and another plane of existence, maybe, as Bokuto kisses him. It’s everything he’s been missing out of life. 

Their game goes unfinished - it’s too tempting to just  _ take _ . Terushima kisses him back with ferocity, tongues tasting each other, teeth pressing together; he slides his hands down the back of Bokuto’s slacks, pulling them down as best as he can with their position. He puts some weight on his ankle and winces, prompting Bokuto to flip their positions. He pushes Terushima down to the floor, and straddles his hips.

He’s manhandling him, and it’s a total turn-on.

Bokuto finishes undressing himself, giving Terushima time to greedily take in the sight before him. He’s desperate to taste him again - he pulls him down into a kiss, and he’s a good kisser, damn it. Bokuto melts against him, the skin-on-skin contact sending a spark of shivers down his spine. Bokuto whines into the kiss when Terushima reaches between them to grip his cock, stroking it nice and evenly.

Bokuto had plans for what they were going to do on their first time together, all the things he wanted to say, all the places he wanted to explore and kiss and  _ worship _ \- but his mind’s gone blank. It’s just him, and Terushima, and he’s desperate to chase their pleasure.

He shifts his position, moving to press their cocks together. The pressure is great, and it’s perfect when Terushima wraps a hand around the both of them, moving his hand in slow, firm strokes.

They’ve both wanted this so badly, and for so long, they know it won’t last. Bokuto presses for more kisses; he rocks his hips, trying to kiss in between the heavy breaths and pants, but everything just gets jumbled. Terushima shifts, changing his angle, and his piercing presses against Bokuto’s dick at  _ just _ the right angle - he rolls his hips and moans out garbage, words senseless and incoherent.

He moans out the only word left in his vocabulary,  _ Yuuji _ , voice loud and carrying as Terushima increases his pace. Sweat clings to his skin, pooling  on his lower back. Pleasure pools in the pit of his stomach, white-hot and overwhelming; he chases it, rocking his hips desperately.

A few more strokes and a broken whimper of his name is all that it takes - Bokuto’s muscles tense as he comes, voice pitching high; he trembles, pleasure rocking through his body. Terushima tumbles after him, coming after just a few more strokes, pulling Bokuto down into another hot, messy kiss.

Slowly, softly, they relax; Bokuto is hot and sweaty, weight heavy on Terushima. He can’t be bothered to push him off, though; not when his lips are so soft, and sweeter than expected.

He kisses him slowly, lazily. When he pulls back, Terushima sighs contentedly. “Maybe you can remind me… why we’ve been waiting to do that?”

Bokuto snorts with laughter, closing his eyes and nuzzling against Terushima’s chest. “No fuckin’ idea.”

* * *

It’s Kuroo’s boyfriend’s birthday, and apparently the occasion also merits a gift for Terushima. Bokuto takes him out shopping, and picks out a whole new outfit for him to wear; by the time they’ve made it to the party, they’re both matching in dark blue v-necks.

The party’s outside - as they walk up towards the house, they can see Kuroo and a bunch of his other friends sitting around in some lawn chairs, laughing and drinking. When they see Bokuto and Terushima, Kuroo yells loudly, something incomprehensible. He points at Terushima, turning to say something to the rest of the group, who nod and wolf whistle appreciatively.

Terushima laughs, “What am I, your trophy boyfriend?” Bokuto chuckles and squeezes his hand, knocking their shoulders together.

In that moment, Terushima realizes just how grateful his is.

He’s grateful for speeding tickets, grateful for determination. Grateful for first, second and seventh dates. Grateful for the bakery that serves up Bokuto’s favourite sweets. Grateful for being able to forgive himself, and move on.

But mostly, he’s just grateful for Bokuto.

“Come on babe,” Bokuto grins, nuzzling his cheek, “Is it bad I wanna show you off?”

Terushima shakes his head. “No, not at all. Thank you.”

_ For everything. _

He squeezes his hand, and they walk in together - exactly how they both want to stay.


End file.
